White Ladder
by Rhea1305
Summary: A fight between Tony and Gibbs and the aftermath. Written from multiple points of veiw. Rated T for language and slash. Gibbs/Dinozzo
1. What Do You Want From Me?

**A/N: **I wrote this on the train home from college. It's a three part Tony/Gibbs Slash fic so if that's not your thing don't read, although it's nothing particularly overt. It's also a songfic, but don't judge it until you read it and if you really don't like it hit the review button and tell me why. On that train of thought, this is my first NCIS fic so there may be some ooc traits, again if there are, press the review button and I will endeavour to correct them. Anyways, R&R and enjoy Rhea

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS. This is the property of _Donald P. Bellisario and co_. Neither do I own the song _What Do You Want from Me, _that's owned byPink Floyd

1. What Do You Want From Me?

_As you look around this room tonight, settle in your seat and dim the lights_

Tony glared at Gibbs across the room. Furious that they were having this argument again. He was getting more and more frustrated as it went on, because for someone so fucking quiet most of the time, Jethro could sure as hell shout the house down when he wanted to.

As his partner paused for breath Tony jumped in, "It's all right for you, you don't have to think about these things. All you do is hide away in the basement and build your stupid boat while I sit up here and try not to think about what I'd do if something happened to you.

_Do you want my blood, do you want my tears? What do you want?  
Should I sing until I can't sing any more?  
Play these strings until my fingers are raw?_

I don't know what I to do. I don't know whether to leave you to you and ignore everything or sit down and try to work it out. But every time we fucking try we end up yelling at each other and I'm tired of it. I never know what you're thinking; never know what you're feeling. It's not like you ever give me a heads-up. No you don't fucking bother I just walk around on eggshells hoping for the best, hoping that you're not going to snap at me if I move in the wrong way."

_You're so hard to please, what do you want from me?_

He paused breathing deeply and when Gibbs just looked at him he went on in a tired voice, "You're so god-damned hard to please, I never know what I'm supposed to do. You don't talk to me, you don't listen to me. And there's only one thing I want to know now, what do you want, Jethro? What do you want from me?"

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~  
_  
Do you think that I know something you don't know?_

Gibbs didn't have the answers. That annoyed him more than the fact they were having the exact same argument as a week ago. Tony had started this so now he was going to put actions to the name; the second b was for bastard after all.

He glared at his lover and asked in a dangerously low voice, "Do you think I have the answers? Think that I know everything?"

Tony sometimes either didn't read the warning signs or chose to ignore them, so he replied, "I don't _think_ you have them Jethro, I _expect_ you to have them."

_If I don't promise you the answers would you go?_

"Well I don't have your answers Tony. I don't fucking know what I want from you. But are you going to leave now you don't know? Going to run off because I can't answer your stupid fucking question?" Gibbs roared back.

_Should I stand out in the rain?  
Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you?_  
" I can't waste time pondering the answers to stupid questions because I have a job to do. Sometimes I have to act before I think. Sometimes I have to. There's someone out there who needs me to protect them and if I die doing it I'll die a happy man."

_I'm not the one you need, what do you want from me?_

"I have to make sure everyone makes it out okay and sometimes it means putting their safety before mine. You've done it before today and you'll do it again. So what are you going to do? What am I supposed to do?"

There was a long, tense pause between the two me before Gibbs finally spoke again in a weary tone, "You know what Tony. Fine. I'm not the one you need. You need someone with answers and I'm not that. I don't even know the fucking questions most of the time so go."

Tony scowled and snatched his jacket from the hook as he headed towards the front door. Just before he left, he muttered loud enough for Gibbs to hear, "At least I'm clear about what I want from you."

Tony left, slamming the door behind him.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

_You can have anything you want.  
You can drift, you can dream, even walk on water,  
anything you want._

Sat behind the wheel of his car, driving god knows where, Tony scowled down at the road.

He's a stupid old bastard. He knows I'd do anything for him, I'd give anything for him and yet he treats me like dirt. Doesn't tell me anything, doesn't explain anything, leaves me out here in the cold to flounder about what the fuck I'm supposed to do. Now I know why he's got three living ex-wives.

Why the hell did he think I'd leave him? I'll piss off for a couple of days, sure, but I can't leave him. I'm not strong enough to stay away that long. I need him, he's everything I want. That's the simple truth. It's the stupidly complicated parts that are wedged between us.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

_You can own everything you see  
Sell your soul for complete control,  
Is that really what you need?_

I'd do anything for him. I won't tell him that, it'd sound fucking stupid if it came from me, I try, but every time I try the words fail, catch in my throat and I don't bother. I've stopped trying recently.

He's had my six all these years, does he really think it's meant fuck all to me? I'm a bastard to live with. Fuck I'm a self-proclaimed bastard. Everyone knows it. I don't talk, but I figured after all these years he'd just get it.

I figured that Tony would just know.

_You can lose yourself this night  
See inside there is nothing to hide  
Turn and face the light_

It's easy to walk away from things and see how they might have worked out differently, Tony. Hindsight makes it easy to think about what you should have said. But it doesn't mean that it ever _gets_ said, it just means you know what you _should_ have said.

It's easy to lose a whole night thinking about the things you don't understand; thinking about the people you don't understand….

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

And all that night Tony and Gibbs sat in different parts of the city, thinking the same thing: _What do you want from me?_


	2. This Years Love

**A/N: **So here's the second chapter for is written from Gibbs' POV and it might be a little ooc from the outside of gibbs' that we see, but there's a person in there somewhere and this is him. Just so you know, you guys are AMAZING! I've only had a response like that once. I checked my inbox after 12 hours and I have 24 messages three of which were reviews. I have to thank: LIGHTNSHADOWS, Meilea2010 and Rebirabbit for their encouraging reviews and thank you to everyone who favourited and put this on story alert. So here's the next chapter this song is by David Gray from the album _White Ladder_, which is where the title of the story comes from. Erm, I'm starting to ramble now I'll sign off with the words Review and Enjoy, Rhea. =]

**Disclaimer:** I own neither the characters nor the song.

2. This Years Love

_This years love had better last, Heaven knows it's high time; I've been waiting on my own too long._

He really left. He actually left. I didn't mean it when I said it. I didn't mean it…

He can't leave me, not now. It's not fair. I need this to last, I need Tony. Hell, I've been waiting so long for something this good to come along. I thought this time it might work, that it might last.

I thought this time I'd have something that would go the distance, I can't see myself with anyone but Tony. I haven't felt like this since Shannon. I've been on my own since then. Despite the three ex-wives I was still on my own.

Ever since Shannon I've felt like this, alone, apart, so much so that I wouldn't even let my own father close. Then Tony, Tony changed things. It was small at first, his smile was infectious: a disease which everyone caught, Kate, McGee, Ziva everyone, including me. I'd smile, just from the corner of my mouth at first a slight lopsided grin. Then it got bigger, nothing special, and nothing noticeable but it did.

_But when you hold me like you do, it feels so right_

Then Tony came to me in the basement, a hard case had pushed him to realise that he either told me now or never. I knew I had feelings for him, more than just co-workers of friendship; it was that nausea that works its way into your system, where you feel dizzy and light-headed permanently. When he came down those stairs, only halfway and he whispered it, he whispered three words that changed everything.

Now after a hard case I'll hold him or he will me. One hand in his hair, running my fingers through it gently, the other holding his hand. It feels right. It fits, like we were made to be together: two pieces of a puzzle.

_I start to forget, how my heart gets torn, when that hurt gets thrown_

We fight. It's because we're both stubborn. Like two bulls locking horns. Neither of us is able to back down out here. When we're at work we do, I know when to let Tony lead and he knows when to follow me. But here, out here in the real world we're stubborn.

I'm stubborn because I'm usually right and he's stubborn because he doesn't like to be wrong. Then we're just stubborn because we can't help it. We're so different and so alike that we clash: like I'm chalk and he's cheese.

_Feeling like you can't go on,_

When we fight it breaks us both. It breaks me down and I start to worry about whether or not we can make it through. It's been getting worse recently, as the cases have gotten more and more personal and more dangerous. After the trouble with Paloma and her brother, we fought. But that was after the initial shock of the fact we were both still alive and the two assailants were either dead or in prison.

That was where this fight originated. We'd had it before but only a few times but now it's getting worse. Every other time one of us went in a building alone, going against protocol, we'd start.

_Turning circles and time again, it cut like a knife_

I know I might lose Tony in the job, he might lose me. But I can't think about it like that. If I think like that I start to remember how much it hurt to lose Shannon and Kelly and I am not prepared to do that again. Not for anybody. I can't do that again, I can't lose someone that close to me.

Every time he reminds me of the chances it feels like a knife cutting deep into me. Every time we go around in circles, chasing our tails to the point where either he or I leaves, walks out of the door and away from the reality.

_If you love me got to know for sure, 'Cause it takes something more this time, than sweet, sweet lies,_

I sometimes don't know whether he loves me like I do him. Then what happens is he takes me in his arms and whispers it gently. It's time like that which make me realise he does.

But sometimes it takes more than just words to persuade someone how much you care.

_Before I open up my arms and fall, losing all control,_

He makes me lose all sense of what or who I am. I feel like I did as a kid, spinning around in the backyard, staring up at the sky with my arms out. I'd fall and feel dizzy, like Tony makes me feel. I lose control of my thoughts, feelings, words, he takes over every part of me and it's because I love him so much.

_Every dream inside my soul_

He's part of my dreams for the future. I can't picture a future where he's not by my side, guarding my six like he always does. Every dream I have now, he's there: laughing, smiling, and sanding the boat.

He's apart of everything I want now. I can't see anything without him. He's everything.

_When you kiss me on that midnight street, Sweep me off my feet, singing "ain't this life so sweet"._

The first time we went out as a couple, it was low key. No one at work knew and we didn't want anyone to suspect. Even in a restraint. It was Tony's idea; he wanted to go out be a "couple".

I wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it but I went; I knew it would make him happy. We were sat there talking, eating and just generally enjoying each other's company when my phone rang with a case.

We left but as we headed to the car Tony stopped and surveyed the street for a moment, I thought maybe someone was following us, but when he took my head in his hands and kissed me I was swept off my feet. Literally, not metaphorically, he pushed me back against the car and I lost my footing.

_This years love had better last, this years love had better last, Cause whose to worry, if our hearts get torn? _

This has to last. I can't believe I might lose it, which is the reason why I haven't moved since Tony walked out of the door. I can't believe this could slip through my fingers. I am not going to let this go.

_When that hurt gets thrown, don't you know this life goes on?_

Hurt get thrown around to much between us at the moment. We toss it back and forth between us, me and him and then it's returned to me ten fold. We argue, shout, growl and between it all we say some things that never get spoken directly. We say we're worried and that we love each other. We're just too damned stubborn to say it out loud.

_Won't you kiss me on that midnight street; sweep me off my feet, singing "ain't this life so sweet"._

Now I have to go find him. He's out there in the dark and cold thinking about what I said to him and how I was wrong. He knows it was me, I know it was me, so now I have to go and find him, search everywhere I can think of to make sure he comes home safe. I have to make sure he comes back to me.

_This years love had better last. _

I need this to last and I need Tony which is why I'm grabbing my coat off the hook and following him out of the door.


	3. Nightblindness

**A/N:** Right, so this is probably the last chapter, for now anyways. I may just add little bits when I'm feeling up to it, or I have an extra moment that is not dominated by coursework. This is the little resolution that every story needs because it's Christmas and a happy ending is necessary. I'd like to say thank you to **Meilea2010** for her review, it made me smile and feel a little more confident about this whole set-up. Anyways, I'll leave the chapter to you guys, so R&R, Rhea. =]

**Disclaimer:** The plot is mine: the characters aren't. The song _Nightblindness _is by David Gray and is from the album _White Ladder_.

3. Nightblindness

_A million to one outsiders, Nightblindness, Can't see_

When we're together I don't recognise anyone else. We're in our own little world and there's about six billion unknowns walking around on the planet, six billion other people that don't matter in the slightest, because I'm with Jethro. I can't hear them, can't see them: don't care. They're just…just numbers, not even numbers, barely thoughts, I don't realise we're living with all these other beings until we're apart and I have to see the world in sharp focus.

I have to see the world in sharp focus because if I don't someone might get hurt.

_Your bright eyes are what, the time is: twenty five past eternity_

I look into his bright blue eyes and loose myself. They're how I slip into that world, which is why when he sits next to on the park bench I don't look at him. I know that if and when I do I'll lose all control and I won't be able to deny him anything. I can feel the warmth of his body cutting through the cold night air, the smell of sawdust and old spice enveloping me.

I don't think he recognises the significance of this place. Or maybe he does and just doesn't want to think about it. It's where I was when I told Jeanne who I really was. That somehow seems so recent, but in fact it's an eternity ago. Years.

_Here listening, to the sirens, coming closer, now further away_

He just sits next to me, laid back against the cold metal. Silent. Maybe he's waiting for me to speak; maybe he's listening to the sirens screeching in the distance. Maybe he's wrapped up in the silence that's developed around us.

I don't know, but an interesting paradox has presented itself. I feel so close to him, I know he cares for me, he wouldn't have come if he didn't, but is it the same way I care for him? Does he love me like I do him?

Yet, I feel so far away from him too, as if the silence is a gap created by all the things that have never been said between us, a void that won't be filled unless we talk, a chasm that will just expand and expand until eventually we're driven apart completely.

It comes and goes. Closer then further away. Closer…

_What we gonna do when the money runs out?_

His voice croaks when he speaks, his throats dry, from anguish and stress. Not that anyone but those close to him could tell you that. It's subtle and barely noticeable to anyone unacquainted with the slight changes in the Gibbs demeanour.

"What are we gonna do Tony?"

_I wish that there was something left to say_

I don't know what to say. I don't know whether to respond, I don't know how to respond. I just don't know. There has to be something I can find to reply. Anything. A few solitary words so that his question doesn't hang heavy in the air anymore, like and weight pressing over us. I want to find something, but maybe there isn't something to find.

_Where we going to find the eyes to see the bright of day?_

I leave the question unanswered. It's just easier like that. If I can't find something useful, true or even nice to say, I'm not going to say anything at all. I want to see things from his side, that'd make things easier, but no matter how hard I try I can't be Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I can't get into that state of mind, it's impossible. I can't understand him. Maybe that's why we fight so much…

_I'm sick of all the same old answers, lost chances, cold stones_

Why do we argue about the same things? I've tried to ask this but I get the same answer every time. A shrug of the shoulders and the unsatisfactory words: "People argue." Same answer every single time.

Sometimes I've wondered: Did I miss out on something while I was fighting with Jethro? Something that could've been great? Something that I might not have to wrestle with to make it work. I forget he's by my side and wander, just for a moment about how many chances, opportunities I've lost because I've been trying to make things work with Jethro.

I've been fighting the storm that brews from his eyes. The storm that starts in his eyes, and spread throughout his whole body so you can tell, by his glare, his stance his folded arms and straight back that he's angry and there's going to be a rough few minutes a head. The storms can last for days, leaving me out in cold, isolated from the only thing that could give me warmth.

I feel like I'm under fire. Being attacked from all sides. With rocks and stones being thrown from every angle so I can't duck and dive away from them. I'm trapped waiting for them to hit me and bruise.

_Propping mountains up, on matchsticks, dragging baskets, full of Bones_

Maybe it's because we carry the whole weight of the world on our shoulders. Between us we carry the weight of every agent that we've ever lost.

We blame ourselves for Michelle Li because we both should have spotted it. I should have seen it after I came back. He should have seen that Langer was innocent.

He blames himself for Laura Macy. He didn't clean up his mess properly, he missed a trick. He broke Rule 45.

I blame myself for Jenny because I should have protected her. It was my job to make sure she made it back from Los Angeles alive and well. I didn't do _my job._

We both carry the weight of Kate with us. There wasn't anything we could have done. We didn't know Ari was there. How could we? But we both feel that maybe if we'd acted differently, planned differently, Kate would still be here.

_And honey please don't stop, your talking, 'cause there's a feeling, won't leave me alone,_

I'm so wrapped up I don't hear him whisper something, it's so quiet it sounds like the wind catching in a tree, rustling the leaves, this way then that. And when he whispers it again I'm not sure if I've heard him properly.

The third time he speaks, I can't mistake it. For the first time he says, "I love you, Tony" A whisper in a dark park on a bench where my last relationship based on love ended. Maybe that's why he managed to say it: because he was afraid that we would end here too.

He moves to take my hand and when I don't flinch or move away he places his over mine and entwines our fingers, running his thumb over the back of my hand. He's never been this…tender with me before.

_What we gonna do when the money runs out?_

I don't know what to do. So I just sit there staring at our hands, knowing that he meant what he said. Knowing that whatever he's about to say he means that too.

"I do love you Tony, and don't ever think otherwise. I'm a bastard and I can't find the words to say what I want, mean or feel sometimes, but you need to know I love you."

_I wish that there was something I could say_

I don't reply. How am I supposed to reply to that? Me, the man who can barely speak coherently when he catches me teasing McGee or tormenting Ziva. I wasn't made to speak at times like this and certainly not to Jethro. Instead I just nod and stay staring at our hands.

_How we going to find the eyes to see the bright of day?_  
He lets go and carefully places his fingers under my chin pushing up gently so I have to look at him.

"Tony," he whispers. He's close to me, our foreheads touching, his breath tickling me.

"Please tell me you know I love you. Tell me I haven't treated you so badly that you don't know that. I might not have the answers, I might not know what I want from you and I sure as hell might not always go into the danger zone with someone on my six. But I love you."

_What we gonna do when the money runs out?_

He does mean it. He does love me. I love him. I always have. Even if I didn't quite recognise it at first. Even if I didn't see what he was to me. I've seen it clearly for so long now, I know for certain I love him and somehow, those last words the short to the point declaration of Leroy Jethro Gibbs made me see he does love, because even if he doesn't know it, there lay the answers to the questions.

_I wish that there was something left to say,_

Our foreheads are still touching and I look up from the floor to meet his eyes. I want to smile but my mouth won't let me, but I think my eyes smile, because his smile back.

"I know Jethro. I know, I just wish you'd remember that I love you too. I wish you'd remember that every time you go in somewhere on your own I have to wait for you to come out, dead or alive. If you do die it's me that has to pick up the pieces."

_How we going to find the eyes to see the bright of day?_

I pause and breathe in the night air. It's seems clearer now, less heavy, the weight has been lifted.

"Even though rule number seven is "never take anything for granted" I'm going to take this. I've realised what you want from me: you want me to love you back." I whisper, hoping I haven't shot completely off target.

He smiles, leans in taking my face in his hands and kisses me.

_Fin_


End file.
